


The Emperor's New Clothes

by unstable_fangirl_of_larry



Series: Death of a Bachelor [1]
Category: Avenged Sevenfold, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: AUGH, FUCK WHY DID IT TAKE A MOTHERFUCKING WEEK, I'm so sorry, Shit, this took a week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-28 23:29:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5109464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unstable_fangirl_of_larry/pseuds/unstable_fangirl_of_larry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brendon dies. He meets a new face and even fuCKING KILLS SOMEONE OH WHAT A FUCKING TIME TO BE ALIVE!!!!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Emperor's New Clothes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nikki my baby girl](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Nikki+my+baby+girl), [the crazy lady in 10th grade; McKenna](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=the+crazy+lady+in+10th+grade%3B+McKenna), [Serena the Dill Pickle](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Serena+the+Dill+Pickle).



> Nichole, my love, you heard me ramble about this shit for too long, so here you have it.
> 
> McKenna, you've been here since the very beginning, and you let me use the computer when the other ones were down in the library. Thanks love, and I hope you have a wonderful time reading this. :)
> 
> Serena, we did it. Have a gander and yell at me later.

_Finders keepers, losers weepers_   
_~~~~~~_

The grip of death is so tight on his ribcage that he can’t feel the heat rising up from beneath him. The screams get louder, women and children crying out for help, but he can’t do anything. He’s frozen in fear, but he keeps going until there’s nowhere else for him to fall and he hits the ground.

The fall is enough to knock the wind out of him, but he feels absolutely nothing. He sits up, checks around and finds nothing but dead silence and fog to cover his sight and mind. ‘Where am I?’ he asks to himself.

“Find out your true form and you’ll understand.” A deep voice answers him, and he feels a sharp pain rocket up his right arm.  
 _~~~~~~_  
 _Welcome to the end of eras_  
 _Ice has melted back to life_  
 _Done my time and served my sentence_  
 _Dress me up and watch me die  
__~~~~~~_

“What the fuck?!” He hears a loud voice shriek, but after a moment he realizes it was his own voice. He hadn’t heard it in so long that it was a new sound to him. The hand with blistering pain was a cool grey colour, sharpened black nails sprouting out of them. “What the actual living fuck is this?” he asks to himself, and the disembodied voice answers him yet again.

“It’s the price that comes with being beautiful.” the voice calls, and he feels himself fall again, pain all over his body. He grips to anything that would give to his claws and fingers, but nothing works. His scrabbling hands seek purchase on nothing, leaving him to stare at the now cursed coloured hand in anguish.  
 _~~~~~~_  
 _If it feels good, tastes good_  
 _It must be mine_  
 _Dynasty decapitated_  
 _You just might see a ghost tonight_  
 _~~~~~~_

He feels the cold grasp of an unknown force, the sharp claws digging deep into the skin of his discoloured fingers, his voice raw and beaten. “Tell me who you are!” he shouts to the dark abyss, receiving no answer. “Please…” he begs, and he finally gets his answer. It’s a slow, drawn out yell, gradually getting louder and keeping him from covering his ears. He feels something budging against his forehead, his head throbbing in immense pain. He cries out, noticing a new addition to his head, and it’s all a matter of time before his lithe, reptilian hands reach the protrusions on his head and lead him astray from the pressing matter at hand. He can’t feel anything else, but the base of his forehead seems a lot broader, the surface of his once smooth skin now wrinkled and damaged forever. What has he become in the mere minutes he’s been in the depths? Is there any way for him to actually be saved and pulled out, or is he damned to stay there for all of eternity? He hasn’t the slightest clue, and it angers him immensely.

He lets out a cry in anguish, pounding the ground with his clenched fist, and he can’t help but sob pathetically about what he thinks he’s becoming. He’s gone mad, but everything around him seems to have stopped.  
 _~~~~~~_  
 _And if you don't know now you know_  
 _~~~~~~_  
The voice above him keeps taunting him, its words mumbled together and the only coherent thing he hears is the demonic laughter ringing around him. It’s driving him crazy, and he can’t see anything. Everything is fogged over, the space around him is damaged, broken to the point of no return, and he sees the mass pile of _skeletons on the floor seriously where the hell is he and why are there dead BODIES EVERYWHERE OH MY GOD WHAT IS **HAPPENING**?!_

 _~~~~~~_  
 _I'm taking back the crown_  
 _I'm all dressed up and naked_  
 _I see what's mine and take it_  
 _(Finders keepers, losers weepers)_  
 _Oh yeah_  
 _~~~~~~_  
“Why am I here?!” he screams to the absence, but retracts no answer. The people in the darkness scream for him, screeching for his damnation and beg for their forgiveness. “Who are you and what have I done to deserve this?!” The noise gets louder, crescendoing until it’s nearly deafening. He can hear his ragged breathing, but there’s no actual beat in his chest to remind him that he’s alive--

Wait.

 _~~~~~~_  
 _The crown..._  
 _So close I can taste it_  
 _I see what's mine and take it_  
 _(Finders keepers, losers weepers)_  
 _Oh yeah_  
 _~~~~~~_  
He hears the ringing in his ears, silence growing to be a deafening roar, and he can’t help but start screaming. It’s a nasty scream, ripped straight from his chest, and the power of the roar almost unbearable. He covers his ears with his hands, crying out and screeching at the slightest movement. He hears another voice, this one sweeter than honeycombs and dripping with deception.

“Do not be alarmed. You know well enough to know where you are. Just put your mind to it and you’ll find your way around.” the voice tells him softly, quickly dissipating into the thick fog. He calls out for the voice, seeking no response but the echoes and reverberation of his own vocals.

He truly is alone now.

 _~~~~~~_  
 _Sycophants on velvet sofas_  
 _Lavish mansions, vintage wine_  
 _I am so much more than Royal_  
 _Snatch your chain and mace your eyes_  
 _~~~~~~_  
“Who are you?!” he sobs, and it quickly becomes a game of cat and mouse. The voice tells him something off in the distance, taunting him and making him run, and then moment he gets to the spot where the voice was centred, it disappeared and left him wanting more answers than the questions given. It’s been going on for quite some time now, his tears now burning down his face, and he feels his chest contract painfully. ‘No,’ he thinks. ‘Not now. Please no…’ He gives a loud, anguished cry, feeling a pain surge through his spine and chill him. “Why is this happening to me?!” he shrieks, his head pounding and body aching everywhere. “Where’s the relief of light when I need it…” he says weakly, and he sees a figure drop down from the heavy fog from above. “Wait, who are you?” he asks before everything goes dark and the figure has any time to reply.

 _~~~~~~_  
 _If it feels good, tastes good_  
 _It must be mine_  
 _~~~~~~_  
He wakes up suddenly and he’s in a mental hospital-wait, what the fuck? There’s a guy running from something, but-- oh, there are orderlies following him with a wheelchair. Everything makes sense now. The men in the hallway stop when they hear a screech, running in the opposite direction and see a man ramming his head into the broken glass of the door.

“Brian…” one of the guards says, trying to calm the patient down, the jacketed man is having none of it. He's thrashing around as if his life depended on it. “Brian, listen to me. Back away from the wall… You’re going to be-”

“Devil!” the man shrieks, ramming his head in at full force (well, with as much force that you can get from being tied in a straightjacket…) “DEVIL!! He is here, with us, and he wants to take my soul!” He keeps screaming, and the demon has no clue what to say or do. Does he go and prove himself to this maniac, or does he torment the poor thing until he dies of a panic attack and his heart bursts? He hops down from the rafters after a quick decision, his wings-when did he get those damned things?-retracting, and he steps in front of the man in the straightjacket. “Devil!! Stay back from me, you fucking demon!!” Brian screams, and the demon snickers.

Time to have some fucking fun.

 _~~~~~~_  
 _Heroes always get remembered_  
 _But you know legends never die_  
 _And if you don't know now you know_  
 _~~~~~~_  
“Matthew Sanders, please report to your station. Matthew Sanders, to your station.” the voice on the loudspeaker says, and the man runs, finding Brian lying on the floor.

“Brian?” he asks worriedly, touching the man's neck with his hand. “Brian, are you okay?” A man with red hair runs by, screaming “Devil took Bry-Bry! Devil took Bry-Bry, Matty!!” The man's face is red, almost the same hue as his hair, and he can't help but feel sorry for the duo. One possibly asleep on the floor and the other having a mental breakdown. Matt grabs him, his body pliable enough for Matt to fold him into his arms. “Zacky, tell me. Who took Brian?” he asks nicely, hoping for a decent answer.

“The Devil, Matty! The Devil took Bry-Bry, Matty!” Zacky shouts, looking and pointing at the man face first on the carpet. “Devil!!” The demon in the room chuckles darkly as he sees Matt scramble around to find anyone who would help him. Shrugging to himself and huffing in frustration, Matt looks at the man on the floor, checks his pulse and freaks out. His breath hitches, blood running cold, and he has no other mechanic to do anything but scream.

There’s no pulse.

 _~~~~~~_  
 _I'm taking back the crown_  
 _I'm all dressed up and naked_  
 _I see what's mine and take it_  
 _(Finders keepers, losers weepers)_  
 _Oh yeah_  
 _~~~~~~_  
The demon cackles, falling beneath the depths, and his surroundings go dark. He had done his work and now he was ready to return to the netherworld. He feels the cold grasp of the darkness takes over his skin, letting out a sigh and he lands on a hard surface way too soon, knocking the wind out of him. What the fuck? The dark figure is made out in the dark, their large wings expanded to their full extent. “Who are you?” the demon asks, and the figure chuckles darkly.

“Well Brendon, I’m the Rev, but you can call me James.” the older demon calls, his dark wings closing as he walks towards the scared man.

 _~~~~~~_  
 _The crown..._  
 _So close I can taste it_  
 _I see what's mine and take it_  
 _(Finders keepers, losers weepers)_  
 _Oh yeah_  
 _~~~~~~_  
The demon looks around, finding the winged figure gone with the blink of an eye. He’s alone now, a new scream breaking through the cotton fog of his ears.  It’s deep, and instantly recognisable from the incident earlier on. Brian. He’s crying, begging to be let out, begging and screaming for mercy. “Who are you?!” Brian screeches, eyes burning and throat scratched raw. “Tell me who you are, demon!!”

“Brendon.” he says, and makes Brian let out a terrifying shriek. “Now, run. Run for the hills and never even think of turning back because I will make you pay, and it will be the worst time of your life.”

 _~~~~~~_  
 _Mortal kings are ruling castles_  
 _Welcome to my world of fun_  
 _Liars settle into sockets_  
 _Flip the switch and watch them run_  
 _~~~~~~_  
Brendon hears the metallic screech ringing painfully through his ears and he howls in pain, curling in on himself and the harsh noise from his wings fluttering noisily makes him cringe. He can’t escape the sounds even if he tries, and it’s all a blur when his vision clouds over and he falls to the ground, but there’s no hit of his body to the floor. It’s softer, more relaxed, and when he looks up, he gasps.

Jimmy. “You seriously thought I was going to let you fall into the pits? You must be out of your mind!” the older demon laughs, making Brendon chuckle nervously. “Well, you have no clue who you are, right?” Brendon nods sheepishly and Jimmy laughs loudly, the cackling making Brendon nervous to hell and back. “Have you really lost contact with who you are and where you landed yourself, you worthless idiot?!” Brendon sits back in shock, still in Jimmy’s arms. “You seriously think that I’m that sadistic?! You must be completely insane, and that lands you in the right fucking place, psycho!” Jimmy cackles.

“You shouldn’t really say that, asshole.” Brendon hisses, glaring daggers at Jimmy and the other laughs maniacally, Brendon’s eyes widening and glowing a bright yellow. Jimmy keeps laughing, dropping Brendon and ascends to sit atop the darkened silhouette of a dead tree.

“Oh Brendon, you shouldn’t tell me what to do, you son of a bitch. You learn to respect your elders and those in powers above you, so why the fuck are you disrespecting me, you worthless, tiresome, piece of shit of a demon. You murdered a perfectly sane person in the asylum. He was just a reporter that was in there for a week and you killed him by ripping out his heart and squeezing it until it burst. You were the one who was driving him insane, and you are worthless to anyone and everyone on this godforsaken planet!” Brendon feels tears sting his eyes, and Jimmy lets out a sickening laugh, deep, throaty, and full of malice. “You’re a pathetic little rat who’s on the shoe of the earth, barely even alive long enough to realize that you are a fucking whore and everyone knows it because you are a FAILURE!!” Jimmy screams in Brendon’s face, cackling. “You’re worthless! Nothing! A nobody!”

“N-nothing?” Brendon stutters, and Jimmy falls to the ground in laughter “A fucking nobody? NOTHING?!” he roars. He lunges at Jimmy, screaming at the top of his voice and tackles the older demon. “I’LL SHOW YOU WHAT A MOTHERFUCKING NOBODY CAN FUCKING DO YOU WORTHLESS, GOOD FOR NOTHING ASSHOLE OF A DEMON!”

 _~~~~~~_  
 _Oh yeah_  
 _(Finders keepers, losers weepers)_  
 _~~~~~~_  
The fight is brutal, Jimmy crying out in anger, pain slicing through him, and Brendon’s the one to start laughing. “You think it’s nice to be mutilated into your final wits?! You think it’s okay to tear people down and not give a fucking shit about you because you can’t fucking figure out that you’re the one who everyone hates! DO YOU THINK IT IS ACCEPTABLE TO DRAG PEOPLE TO FUCKING HELL BECAUSE YOU’RE THE LONELY ONE AND YOU NEED SOMEONE WITH YOU THAT YOU CAN TEAR TO MOTHERFUCKING SHREDS?!” Brendon’s screaming now, his hands tightening around Jimmy’s neck, and he keeps laughing, his thumbs pressing into his trachea and Adam’s apple. Brendon’s laughter gets throatier, deeper, and he wants to break the stupid fucking demon’s throat open so that he can get what he deserves. “YOU THINK THAT I’M A FUCKING NOBODY, YOU WORTHLESS DEMON?! **HAVE YOU EVEN LOOKED AT YOURSELF LATELY?! YOU’RE PATHETIC!** ” Brendon shrieks. Jimmy sees spots in his vision and it’s a matter of time before everything grows dark and he falls apart.

 _~~~~~~_  
 _I'm taking back back, taking back back the crown_  
 _I'm all dressed up and naked_  
 _I see what's mine and take it_  
 _(Finders keepers, losers weepers)_  
 _Oh yeah_  
 _~~~~~~_  
When he feels Jimmy go limp in his grasp, Brendon smirks and drops the body. “Finally, I’m free. I can be alone, and--” he looks down, shocked, and sees the black blood on his hands, oozing down past his wrists and a gasp is pulled out of his throat. “What the hell…?” he thinks, seeing a mirror magically appear. “What’s this?” he asks, seeing the thing in the mirror raise its hand at the same time he did, mimicking his every move.

 _~~~~~~_   
_The crown..._   
_So close I can taste it_   
_I see what's mine and take it_   
_(Finders keepers, losers weepers)_   
_Oh yeah_   
_~~~~~~_

He hears the monster in the mirror let out an ear piercing shriek and he covers his ears, the noise almost too much for him to bear. He hears a voice calling his name, getting louder and louder until it’s next to him, screaming in his pointed ears, and that’s when he sees the intricate design on his chest, the raised skin also bringing up many suspicions. The man looks at himself, seeing the pointed nails, grey skin, and strange jauntiness in his limbs. The ringing gets to be almost too much, and he hears someone call out the question he had in his mind, its hollowness and and lack of emotion leaving him perplexed. “Who am I?” the voice asks, and he notices the mouth of the thing in front of him moving, the sharp teeth and pale lips mouthing out his only thought. ‘Yeah, who am I?’ he thinks, seeing everything as if it were from his own eyes. He has no idea who-or what- this thing is, so his chances of actually understanding whatever this is are next to none.

“You know, Brendon…” the disembodied voice echoes around him, his blood running cold. “That thing is you. You’re monster everyone runs from, not towards, anymore. You’re the one that everyone is afraid of. There’s nothing you can do now.”  
 _~~~~~~_  
 _Finders keepers, losers weepers_  
 _Finders keepers, losers weepers  
__~~~~~~_

His eyes widen in shock, mouth moving but no sound escaping. He lets out a scream as he’s dragged down, the screams he heard earlier get louder and he finally realizes the cold hard truth.

**~~~~~~  
Those screams are his.**

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sorry mom


End file.
